The Joke Is On Us
by MichGirl07
Summary: George is in a dark place in the months following the Battle of Hogwarts but then Angelina shows up on his doorstep with news that will draw him back into the land of the living. Can the two of them help each other through their grief? One-Shot. Companion to my other story, The Unexpected Seventh Year, but can be read independently.


**A/N: This comes from the same AU as my other story, The Unexpected Seventh Year, but you don't have to have read that to get this. Although you can if you want... I won't stop you ;)**

**Let me know what you think! R&R!**

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**The Joke Is On Us**

It had been two and a half months. Two and a half months since life as he knew it had ended. Two and a half months since he had felt whole. Two and a half months since the Battle of Hogwarts. Two and a half months since he had seen the other half of his soul lying on the floor of the Great Hall. Two and a half months since Fred had died.

George sat, wallowing, on the couch in the flat over the store. He was drowning his sorrows in a bottle of muggle beer. He couldn't remember the last time he had been sober. He knew his family was worried about him. They had tried to help. At one point, his brother Bill had gotten so frustrated with him, he had charmed the door of his flat so that bottles of firewhiskey, mead, and goblin wine exploded when they crossed the threshold. Thus, the muggle beer, which his brother had conveniently neglected to incorporate into the spell. George knew they meant well but they didn't understand. No one understood.

A hesitant knock sounded on the door, drawing George back into the present. He knew his family was worried but didn't they understand that he wanted to be left alone. He _needed_ to be left alone to deal with his new reality.

Heaving himself up off the couch, George made his way unsteadily to the door. Bracing himself on the table beside the door, he threw open the barrier to the outside world.

"I told you to leave me alone!" George practically yelled. "If I want to be pissed, it's none of your –" George stopped short when he brain began to process the fact that, rather than a red-haired booze-monitor, there was a dark skinned woman with a look of fear flitting across her features. In his alcohol-induced state, his brain struggled to catch up. "Angelina? What – er, what are you doing here?"

"I, uh," the girl said, seeming to be unsure of herself. "I'm not sure."

His mind may have been fuzzy but George had known Angelina a long time and he could tell something was wrong. The fear and uncertainty on her face was like a bucket of cold water, allowing him to begin to think clearly. "Angelina, what's wrong?"

"I'm not even sure I should be here right now. I don't know if I should tell you." Angelina took a step back away from the door.

"Listen, you came here for a reason. It's obvious there is something wrong. I may be pissed off my arse but I can see that much. So why don't you come in. Even if you don't tell me, you can at least have company while you decide."

Angelina appeared to hesitate before finally nodded and stepping through the open door.

George gestured for her to have a seat and mentally cringed at the sight of his sitting room. Every flat surface was covered with empty bottles – firewhiskey, mead, muggle concoctions. His gate was unsteady as he rushed in front of her to pick up some of the bottles. Simply vanishing them wasn't an option. He just didn't trust himself with a wand right now.

"Listen, George –" Angelina began but halted when George held up a hand.

"Give me a second," he said, heading towards the kitchen. Under his breath, he muttered, "I know they must have left some. Please say they left some. Just where did they put it?" Glancing back through the wide doorway, he saw Angelina standing awkwardly in front of the couch. He could tell whatever was wrong was serious and he knew he needed to sober up, and quickly, before he could be of any help. "Somewhere in this bloody kitchen is a vial of the bloody hangover cure, but where did they leave it?" he mumbled, throwing open cabinet doors in his search. Finally, in the cabinet above the sink, he hit the jackpot – a small vial of dark green liquid. He quickly uncorked it and swallowed it. It landed like lead in his stomach and then a firework-like sensation spread across his body, settling in his head. When the feeling finally dissipated, his mind was clear, the effects of the alcohol gone.

He returned to the sitting room and silently gestured Angelina towards the couch where she finally sat, although her back remained rigid. George sat at the other end of the couch, turning to face her.

"Okay, Ange, I'll remember our conversation now. What's wrong."

Angelina looked down at her lap. The silence stretched out to the point where George thought she had changed her mind about telling him when she finally took a steading breath and blurted out, "I'm pregnant."

Now, Fred and George may never have been suited for academia but, after seeing their success with Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, no one could ever doubt their intelligence. But when Angelina said those words, George was sure he had no brains at all, that or he was still drunk, because, for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why Angelina was telling him of all people.

"Uh, Ange, I hate to break it to you, but I'm not the father," George said, a hint of humor underlying his words. In return, he managed to get a small smile from her, although her eyes were full of sadness.

"No, I know."

"Then why are you telling me? Or better yet, why are you so worried about telling me?"

"Because, George," Angelina said slowly, looking the redhead directly in the eye, "the baby's father is Fred."

x-X-x

It had been just over a week since Angelina and dropped her bombshell on George. In that time, George had been in a fog, stunned by the news his twin was expecting a baby. After Angelina's announcement, he had been speechless. He was so shocked, he couldn't even crack a joke. He hadn't even known Angelina and Fred were dating. George felt a huge sense of betrayal that Fred, the person he was closest to in the world, had kept such news from him. Angelina had explained that they had only been on a few dates, that they had only slept together the one time, only at day before the final battle. That they had only taken that step because of the looming threat of war. But none of it had mattered. George had still felt like Fred was keeping secrets from him.

Now, a week later, George was standing on the floor of the joke shop. Everything was covered in dust, shelves knocked over, merchandise thrown around the room. Not a soul had set foot inside since the Death Eaters had raided the place after Easter.

Angelina's news had awoken something in George that day. He knew that no matter how betrayed he felt right now, Fred was up there, looking down on him, feeling ten times worse. Fred would never forgive him if he let their joke shop, their dream, fall apart just because they could no longer do it together. He knew he needed to pull himself together and start living again.

Looking around one more time, he sighed, thinking about all the work he needed to do to get the place back up and running. _Maybe I can get my brothers to help,_ he thought as he turned to head back up to his flat. When he had shown up to Harry's birthday party a few days earlier, his family had been amazed at the transformation, as it had been weeks since they had seen him sober. Surely they would jump at the chance to help him fix up the store.

As he walked through his door, he glanced around at his now-clean sitting room, marveling at the change he had made in the past seven days. He hadn't been in the flat for more than five minutes when he heard a knock on the door. Knowing it must be Angelina, as he had owled her yesterday, asking her to come by, he hurried to the door.

"Hey," he said, ushering her inside. Once they were settled back on the couch, they both tried to start talking at once.

"Your place looks a lot cleaner –"

"Listen, I'm sorry about how I acted –"

Both stopping mid-sentence, they started laughing. Then Angelina gestured for George to go first.

"I wanted to apologize for how I acted last week. I've been in a bad way."

"It's fine, George. I know I shocked you."

"No – I mean, yeah, you shocked me, but that wasn't it. I haven't been dealing with Fred's –" He found himself unable to actually say the words, no matter how far he had come in the past week. "Well, I just haven't been dealing very well."

"No one expects you to, George. It's fine."

"Yeah, well, I still shouldn't have reacted that way. I was angry with Fred and I took it out on you." Once George had finally found his voice again, he had started yelling, his decibel rising with each passing minute. By the time Angelina had given up trying to explain, she had been near tears and George's face had been as red as his hair.

"No, you shouldn't have. But I understood."

"I know. You've always been great that way. And I can see why you weren't sure you should tell me, based on my reaction."

"Really, that had nothing to do with it. I mean, sure, I was worried about how you would react. I'm worried about how everyone will react. This wasn't exactly planned. But I wanted to tell you first, before anyone else found out. And now that I'm three months along, I wanted to do it before I started to show. The only problem was I knew telling you would make it that much more real. And I didn't know if I was ready for that. I was still in denial." Angelina's gaze dropped down to her lap.

"Do you not want the baby?" George asked, working to keep his voice steady as the question crossed his lips. Angelina's eyes snapped back up to George, shining with tears.

"No, that's not it at all!" she whispered vehemently. Taking a deep, calming breath, her voice returned to normal when she said, "I want this baby. I want it so badly. It was grief that had me in denial. This baby will never know its father." Angelina paused, seeming to gather her thoughts. "I don't know if I was in love with Fred. Frankly, we hadn't been dating that long so I hadn't even had the chance to figure it out. But either way, I loved your brother, just like I love you. You both have been some of my closest friends since our first year at Hogwarts. We have all been through hell and back, several times. Acknowledging that I was pregnant meant I had to finally deal with the fact that Fred was never coming back." Her voice hitched as she said quietly, "I can't even imagine a world without Fred in it."

Without thinking, George reached over and pulled Angelina into a hug as the tears fell from her eyes. Soon they were both crying, clinging to each other for support. The minutes passed as they consoled each other. Neither was exactly sure where their grief ended and the other's began. Finally, their tears dried up and they slowly released their hold on each other.

Smiling slightly, Angelina said, "Sorry about that. I seem to cry all the time now."

"You've got nothing to be sorry about. I think I needed that. I haven't really cried since that night. I've been too sloshed to care. And I made damned sure I stayed that way."

"So what changed?"

"Your news made me think. It made me realize how disappointed Fred would be in me. We're jokesters. We make people laugh but I've been a depressing whelp for months."

"I've had a while to think about this and I really think this baby is a gift. A little piece of Fred for us to hold onto. So he will never really be gone."

"Well the news of the baby certainly had a profound effect on me. I can only imagine what it will be like to actually meet my neice or nephew." George's eyes popped open as he sucked in a deep breath. "Bloody hell! I'm going to be an uncle! Fred made me a bloody uncle!" George started laughing hysterically. Angelina looked on in amusement as his laughter grew and tears began leaking from his eyes. When he finally quieted, he wiped his eyes and said, "Blimey, I haven't laughed in a long time."

"What was so funny about being an uncle?"

"Don't you see it?" Angelina shook her head, causing George's smile to grow. "It's his final joke. He knows that in his absence, I'll step in for him. We are two halves of a whole. I can't help but want to fill the void."

"Oh, George, you don't have to," Angelina said, interrupting him. "I didn't tell you so you would fill Fred's shoes."

"I didn't think you did, Ange. But I will. I'll be there just the same way Fred should. You know Fred would have been there for his kid and I will be there for him too. Or her. Either way, you've got a partner in crime."

"You don't have to, George. I moved in with my mum. She's not too happy with the situation but she said she would help. It's not ideal but it works."

"You don't have to live with your mum, Ange. You should move in here. You can take Fred's room. Plus, we've got an extra room that we use for storage. You can make it the nursery." George hadn't set foot in Fred's room since that fatal day at Hogwarts but as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew they were what he wanted, what Fred would want.

"Oh, George, I couldn't do that."

"Yes, you can. Fred would want you to. I want you to. Because I was serious. I'm here to help. Just imagine I'm Fred. I know, I know, we looked so different, it's hard to imagine, but try," George said, a grin on his face. "Just imagine I've got both ears!" Angelina just rolled her eyes. Getting serious, George added, "Really, Ange. I want to help. Fred would want me to help. This baby finally made me realize I have to start living again. In a way, it's his gift to us. Giving us something to hope for, someone to love even in his absence."

Angelina looked at George, trying to read the emotions on his face. Finally, she said, "Fine. But I'm paying half the rent!"

George laughed and nodded. "Deal."

They sat in a contented silence for a few minutes before Angelina finally looked back at George and said, "I still don't get it though. What's the joke?"

George looked at her as if it was obvious. "This is Fred's kid."

"Yeah. And?"

"And he left us to handle him or her. I bet he's up there, laughing right now, knowing what he got us into."

"Oh!" Angelina said, her eyes widening as understanding dawned.

"Yeah! His gift to us is the newest generation of troublemaker. We're screwed!" Together, they both broke into manic laughter, finally understanding that the joke was on them.


End file.
